Bear Caves Complete Series: A Bear Shifter Box Set

by Mia Wolf

  Chapter 2 – Andrew

  I breathe in the scent of the forest. A pitter-patter of rain has covered the woods in that hanging smell of water on soil. My nose crinkles as I take in another breath, and I feel all my sinews itching to transform.

  When I’m sufficiently deep into the thickets, I pick up speed. The screech of my white linen shirt ripping apart echoes around me. I’m an avalanche of power, hunger, and speed, stampeding through the forest on all fours. A throaty growl rises in the pit of my stomach and the release booms across the trees. I feel satiated as the bear in me steps forward, and the human takes the back seat.

  I hurtle along the far edge of the woodland, letting my bear run free, unencumbered and at full speed. It’s been a while since I got in touch with this side of me. No matter how much time I spend among humans, there is an undying part of me that’s always waiting to be unleashed. I guess it doesn’t matter that I left the clan ten years ago, I’m still a bear shifter through and through.

  “You were a mistake, Andrew.” I can hear the words of my father ring in my ears as he tries his best to discipline me over getting into a fight with another bear shifter kid from the neighborhood. I can still remember the ache of cracked bones, I must’ve been twelve at most. Bear fights tend to get ugly, broken bones are not unusual. Part of the reason is that we heal quickly, so getting into a fight is not considered too risky. No one in the clan would’ve batted another eyelid at the incident, it really was no big deal. Except for my father.

  I know what he would say even right now if I were to bring the incident up to him again and ask him what the big deal was. “I am raising a leader,” was always my father’s plight. Slacking just wasn’t an option for him. Unfortunately, not loving me was.

  He sucked the child out of me long before I could even realize what was happening. All in the hopes that I’d someday become the alpha.

  Why do parents do that? Why do they try to experience the things they never could themselves through their children? My father couldn’t become the alpha, so he wanted me to become one.

  I don’t regret my decision a single ounce, the decision to leave and to never look back. I’ve come to find the good in this animal part of me. The first five years after I left the clan, I denied being a bear shifter every waking moment.

  Back then, I thought that if only I could somehow make the bear shifter in me disappear, I could cut all ties to what I had left behind. I fought that battle long and hard, but in the end, what makes you who you are cannot be shaken off so easily. One day I realized that I wore my skin as a badge of honor and everything changed after that. Now, some would say that I am an unstoppable force.

  I can feel my ivory fangs peeking through my mouth in victory as the deep rumble of my roar shakes everything in my vicinity.

  “Whenever do I get the chance to stretch like this in the city, eh?” I ask myself in my head.

  A burst of speed and I see trees whizzing past me. This raw power can be quite addictive, so I keep it on a leash, but it’s good to bring it out from time to time.

  I run and run until the adrenaline is finally starting to wear off a little. I try to catch a glimpse of the sun through the dense forest-top overhead to tell me what time it is. I have an appointment for the afternoon. It’s less of an appointment and more of a date, and I'm hardly interested in it. It was a favor for a particularly wealthy client of mine. A typical practice in my line of work.

  Date or not, I like to be on time. I didn’t throw away all of my father’s teaching.

  Three hours later, I’m sitting across from the daughter of RG group’s largest shareholder at the Ritz Carlton, New York, one of the fanciest hotels in the world. This is what my world looks like, and here I am getting bored out of my mind in the company of a woman most people would deem drop-dead gorgeous.

  I’m not an asshole, but unfortunately, this date is not very different from how these events usually go for me. I choke in real time if I call them dates, calling them “events” makes them easier to tolerate. Whether I like it or not, I find myself entertaining countless of these women.

  Sometimes I wonder if I’m a fitness trainer or a full-time eligible bachelor in town. Zack gets a good chuckle out of it every time I complain about it to him.

  “You can always say no,” he tells me. Coming out of Zack’s mouth, you better believe he means it. The man is a wolf in the skin of a human, I would know.

  A five-star hotel, a wealthy man’s daughter, and me trying to keep myself entertained. I look around the restaurant, observing how other people’s evening is going. Thankfully, my date doesn’t realize how many of my brain cells are dropping dead every second.

  Tonight I’m dining with Anne J. Durning, the chair of RG group’s tech division. Unfortunately, our date isn’t going well. Anne hasn’t actively tried to start any sort of conversation between us and doesn’t seem to be curious about me at all. To be fair, I haven’t been the most conversational date to her, either. There is no reason to blame her for this uninteresting evening, I remind myself.

  I notice an old couple in the back, near the buffet that seems to be celebrating a special occasion. One look, and you can tell they don’t belong here with this lot. Over-dressed in 20th-century fashion, clumsy posture and the fact that they look sickeningly happy is what makes it clear that they don’t usually hang out with this uptight crowd.

  “Are those lenses?” comes a soft, sullen whisper from my date’s mouth.

  I smile at her from ear to ear then shake my head. “No, my eyes are naturally silver or gray, whatever you prefer to call it.”

  I give a polite nod with a smile that might go on the packaging of a toothpaste.

  As the co-founder of a highly successful fitness training brand, RISE, which is only for the elite, a lot of my clients consider me a good catch for their daughters. It’s not that I get forced into these dates but to maintain an image among hungry sharks who are forever ready to bite and to not make powerful enemies, I indulge my clients’ whims from time to time.

  More often than not, I find myself sitting across from a gorgeous woman, dolled-up from head to toe who has more money in her bank account than I can make in seven lifetimes, but she hasn’t a clue about what she actually wants in life. I find it difficult to be attracted to purposelessness.

  My dates, on the contrary, seem to swoon over me from the get-go. Right now, for example, the blush on Anne’s face is making her fan her flushed cheeks like a teenage schoolgirl with a crush.

  I don’t mean to mock her feelings, and she can’t help my lack of interest, but I find it increasingly difficult to pretend that I’m enjoying our dinner and to suppress my disappointment over yet another wasted date. I don’t remember the last time I talked to a date who could at the very least hold up a riveting conversation.

  “Here, you can use this,” I say to the girl over the din of conversation, handing her a handkerchief. I can at least be nice to her.

  “You are too kind.” She reaches from across the table and recoils when our hands briefly touch.

  I press my lips and breathe in deeply. At least, I like the wine and the restaurant.

  I notice the old couple in the back locking their lips and a bout of sadness fills my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in love. A clank of wine glasses from a table nearby snaps me out of my head, and when I look back at my date, I find her eyes fixated on my chest. It’s not unusual. Women seem to like my body and muscles. They’re less interested in what’s underneath them. When Anne realizes that I’ve caught her staring, she giggles.

  “So, what do you do in your free time?” I ask in an attempt to engage her in conversation.

  Before replying, she cuts a neat piece of steak with her knife and takes a bite. “Does sky-diving count?” she says with a raised eyebrow. “I like extreme sports. Dancing with danger, that sort of thing.” Her voice almost gets lost to the muffled sounds of the crowd and the faraway jazz music.

  Okay, I wasn’t
expecting dancing with danger to be her answer, I’ll give her that. It makes me really look at her. She has kind eyes, albeit underneath a lot of eye makeup, and the curl of her lip is slightly crooked.

  “You have an infectious smile,” I tell her before I can consider the implications of my statement. It’s not a lie, though.

  “What about you, Andrew?” She says my name in this soft, sultry tone.

  “What about me?” I ask. She’s making an effort now, I realize, but for the love of me, I can’t focus on her. I can feel my interest slipping once again. The old couple in the back is leaving, slowly making their way out of the hotel lobby.

  That’s when I decide that I’m a lost cause. I want to go home, be done for the evening.

  “I, uh, love cooking,” I say idly then pick up my phone and wrinkle my forehead while looking at the screen as if I’m reading something important. “I’m really sorry about this, Miss Durning. But a very urgent matter has come up that I need to attend to.” I really am a prick. Does it help that I feel bad about it? “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our date short. I hope you understand.” I smile at her and any opposition she may have had dies in her throat as I do so.

  “Oh,” she says and genuinely looks both convinced and disappointed. “When can we meet again?”

  I toss a few bills on the table, I don’t count how many, but they should more than cover the costs of our dinner, and stand up to leave.

  “I’ll text you?” I beam a smile that I hope puts her at ease.

  I wave to the manager to signal to him that I’m leaving. I come here often, so I know they’ll handle the situation perfectly. Take the payment, offer the lady some wine, and then escort her out once the evening is done.

  As I make my way out of the restaurant, I see a few heads turn. I’ve been told that people like my looks, and I’ve also come to realize that humans like my silver hair and eyes. It always makes me uncomfortable to see them staring, and I walk a little faster to get away.

  Zack had explained it to me in simple terms. “Look around yourself, man,” he said, “do you see too many people with silver hair and eyes?”

  It makes sense, but woods, what I would give to get rid of it all. The unwanted attention, the cat-calling, the unsolicited emails and love letters. After a hundredth time, it gets a bit old.

  I’m not a circus animal that can be praised for its soft fur, for wood’s sake. Why is it that when women objectify men, it’s somehow considered cute? I grit my teeth and put my sunglasses on to avoid making eye contact with the flock of girls fangirling as I make my way out the hotel and into the parking lot.

  Just as I’m out of the building, Jackson calls me. He’s my right-hand man. There is still time for his daily end-of-day call where he catches me up to speed on the day’s progress for both RISE, my company, and any of my personal matters.

  “What’s up, Jackson? You’re early today,” I say answering the call.

  “It’s Ashley Wang. She wants to schedule a meeting with you.”

  I’ve been chasing that woman for a year now. RISE wants to break into the apparel industry, and I want a seasoned designer to bring that vision to life. Perhaps, she finally considered my offer.

  “Clear some time tomorrow. Let’s meet Ashley Wang.”

  Chapter 3 – Rose

  I reach home and toss my handbag on the floor, I free my hair out of the bun, and make my way to the kitchen to make myself a hot cup of coffee.

  I slump into the sofa and stare at the email from Ashley Wang with my eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

  I receive a notification from Jenna in between. I open it to find a picture from the wedding hall with the bride, the groom, and the bridesmaids all dressed in the clothes I made. I smile, briefly take a look at it, and “awww” out my happiness at it. Then I turn my attention back to the email. I clear the rest of the texts and notifications that keep coming in, there is nothing more pressing than Ashley Wang at the moment.

  If I get this right, Ashley Wang wants me to present at the Regal fashion week next month in New York. I’ve been tripping on the invitation all night and still haven’t found the courage to reply.

  I type in the words, “I am invited to be one of the designers at Regal fashion week, New York” to Jessica and hit the send button.

  Then I close my eyes and heave a deep sigh. What would I even say? Of course, I want to go and present at Regal fashion week which is only the biggest fashion design event in the world. But there is no way I can pull it off.

  I cannot do it without the resources I need to make it happen. But most of all, I’m afraid of making a fool out of myself in front of not only Ashley Wang but literally all of the biggest names in the fashion industry. Messing up at Regal fashion week would mean a career suicide, the ultimate professional faux pas. I am not ready to nip my budding design career in the bud just yet, thank you very much.

  Then a thought hits me. I could ask Ashley Wang for help. Perhaps she could help me arrange things for this show. I immediately brush the thought aside because Ashley Wang obviously has lots more things to do than assist some small-town girl who knows her way with a needle. The email was probably sent by her staff, too.

  I wonder how she even found out about me, but more importantly, I wonder if this is a scam.

  There’s a frantic knock on my door, and I rush to open it. As soon as I unlock it, the door flings open, and Jessica tackles me into a hug. She’s careful with her baby bump, but she manages to give me the warmest embrace she can.

  “New York, Rose! Do I get to come? When are you going? Will it be on TV?” Jessica lets the barrage of questions fire unencumbered.

  “I don’t know anything right now, but I’ll keep you updated,” I say.

  “You better,” Jessica replies and a hand coils around her waist then onto her swollen belly.

  “Congratulations, Rose,” Joshua says emerging from behind Jessica. His beard and mustache still haven’t grown on me. “Listen, baby, I need to go down to see some of the elders, OK?” he says to Jessica, then disappears again.

  “What exactly did they write?” Jessica asks.

  I hand Jessica the phone. I fidget with the golden bracelet on my wrist as I watch her read the email that I received from Ashley Wang.

  Jessica’s eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. “This is a huge deal! I knew it! I told you your designs are fantastic!” Jessica says in a high-pitched, squeaky voice, utter disbelief covering her face. “Is this for real? You have to go, Rose. Tell me you’re going.”

  “About that—”

  “No, no excuses. Are you crazy? This sounds like an incredible opportunity. I say it was about time it happened.” I can tell Jessica is both annoyed and excited. Her voice turns a funny kind of nasal when she is dealing with complicated emotions, and it strangely makes me feel like home. It occurs to me then. Perhaps, that is what I’m afraid of, leaving home.

  “Alright,” I raise my hands in defeat while Jessica continues to shoot daggers at me. “Can I at least take my time to think about it?”

  Jessica sighs and her expression calms down. Seeing her standing at my doorstep right now, all I can think of is that I am not alone. It also makes me think of what I’m leaving behind.

  My phone buzzes again, and it makes me shriek. When I check the notification and find out it’s Ashley Wang again, my heart rate quickens and reaches a fever pitch. Without delay, I pull out the email on my phone’s screen.

  Miss Rose Maibach,

  I wanted to send you a kind reminder that I’m still waiting on your response for the invitation to the Regal fashion week in Brooklyn, New York, on the 14th of next month. I am hoping you’ll respond favorably.

  I also wanted to notify you that you do not need to worry about the staff or a crew or models. We don’t usually do this, but knowing that your case isn’t exactly usual, I have taken the liberty to arrange some of those resources for you. It’s not much, but I am hoping it will be enough to convince y
ou to join us.

  I am completely blown away by your designs. It’s just my love for fashion that has compelled me to go to these lengths to make you a part of this show.

  If you have any other concerns, I’d be happy to address them. Do revert.

  Ashley Wang

  Designer at Regal

  P.S. I’m sending you the pictures of some of the models. I hope it’s not premature for me to do so.

  I am staring at my screen with my jaw dropped down to my lap. Jessica, who’s been reading over my shoulders starts to do a happy dance. Ashley Wang is completely blown away by my designs? Ashley Wang has seen my designs?

  I read and re-read the line and start jumping ecstatically on the rug with Jessica. If all the crew and the models will be taken care of, by none other than Ashley Wang herself, then I have no reason not to go. The joy bubbles deep in my stomach, and I already imagine how the whole show would play out. The venue, the lights, the runway, everything right where I want it. And everyone at Regal looking at my designs.

  Jessica and I laugh ecstatically at each other, and my victory dance only stops when my ankles start to hurt from all the tip-toeing I did all day and all night, pacing to keep my brains from exploding over Ashley Wang’s email.

  “This is amazing,” Jessica keeps saying. She softly places both of her hands on my cheeks, and for a moment I feel like I’m looking at my mother. “You can be your own guiding light, Rose. You don’t need another soul in this world. But I’m thankful you keep me around you all the same.” I don’t get a chance to reply to those words as Jessica skitters away with her wobbly steps leaving me embedded in the moment in her wake.

  As soon as I shut the door, my thoughts go back to the show and swirl with the ideas of everything I can do, the designs, the theme, the name... What would I call the show?

  But before I think any further, the first thing I do is send an email of acceptance to Ashley Wang thanking her for making my dreams come true! I tone down the excitement a notch in the actual email.